Autumn Chill
by lost logic
Summary: "Jane," Korsak sighed from the other end, "Jane, we got a bad one down here."   A horrific new case. Complicated new emotions. Such is the life of Jane Rizzoli. Dark.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Ok, so this is my first R&I attempt. I'm usually a Potter kind of girl, but I absolutely adore the characters on this show and after trolling the fandom for quite a while have finally chosen to actually contribute. And so, please remember to review and be constructive! I'd love to hear from you guys and be able to get better at the important things like characterization. Thanks - Sloane

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><p>It was cold.<p>

That was the first thing he noticed as he made his way slowly down the stone steps. He could see his breath rising in little puffs before him and for a brief moment he wondered if it had been too cold for the small form slumped against the far wall. God, he hoped not. It would take far too long to get another, and besides, this one was new. There had hardly been any time to play with it at all.

His work boots scuffed the floor; making so much noise it almost seemed obscene. The bundle flinched and curled into itself. He smiled. Good.

He grabbed its hair and dragged the figure upwards, delighting in the sharp cry the action produced and the feeling of several pieces of scalp pulling free. He ran his fingertips down the pale throat.

"Good morning" he whispered. "Miss me?"

He found the place where neck met delicate shoulder and bit down hard, drawing blood and a sob. He licked at the scarlet beading there and grinned. He would have to remember to turn the temperature up; it wouldn't do to lose this one too early – not when it tasted this good.

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><p>Jane awoke abruptly to the shrill ring of her phone. Cursing, she threw the covers back and glared, bleary eyed at the clock beside her bed. 5:58 am. Two minutes before her alarm was set to go off. Somehow that made it so much worse.<p>

She viciously kicked her legs free from their linen confines, ignoring the look of disgust from Joe Friday at the end of the bed and stumbled to the pile of yesterday's clothes by the wardrobe. Finally locating her phone, she flipped it open violently.

"Rizzoli" she barked, making her feelings towards the time and the caller well known.

"Jane," Korsak's voice rang out tight and tired from the other end, "Jane, we got a bad one down here."

"Yeah?" Jane returned the sigh and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, her rancour from earlier vanishing at the tone of her old partner's voice. "Just let me get dressed, ok? You called Frost yet?"

"Yeah, he's on his way. But I tell ya, I don't know if the kid's gonna be much help on this one; _I_ almost spewed when I saw it."

"Jesus," Jane whispered, partially to herself. She shook her head and sighed again. "Just text me the directions, ok? I'll be there in ten."

Jane began to dress. She could hear muffled voices on the other end of the line and what sounded like rain. "Will do," said Korsak, "and, uh, Jane? The Doc just got here and wants me to remind you to dress warmly. She says it's unseasonably cold and that the, uh, jacket you had on yesterday won't be… sufficient."

"Tell her I say 'thanks mom'." Jane rolled her eyes. "Just give me the damn directions Korsak, I'm not getting any younger."

Exactly seven minutes later she stumbled out the door and into the rain. She cursed under her breath and pulled her jacket tighter around her frame, already regretting not taking Maura's advice. A brilliant start to the day, she thought. And it's only going to get better.

When she finally pulled up to the crime scene the first thing she notice was how unnaturally quiet it was. Generally speaking, crime scenes are hardly ever silent. There were always sirens sounding, beat cops chattering, detectives hypothesizing, and more often than not, a few camera shutters clicking. Not now. The only sound was made by the soft rain and the gentle breeze raking through what was left of the leaves on the trees that surrounded the small clearing. The only movement seemed to be the flashing lights from the cruisers. Suddenly, a figure burst forth from the small crowd of officers, barely making it to the brush before retching loudly. Jane swallowed uneasily. Frost had been getting better around bodies as of late. It had to be something really bad to set him off like that. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and crossed the police line.

As she reached the group she saw that it wasn't only Frost who looked sick. They all turned to face her, faces pale and drawn. One of the uniforms was visibly shaking. She saw Korsak and was surprised to find that he was sweating profusely, despite the temperature. Wordlessly, they parted.

Jane stopped abruptly, bile rising in her throat. They were on the edge of a pit. She forced herself to look in. Bodies. Maybe twenty of them. She tore her eyes away quickly, and sucked in a large steadying breath, immediately regretting it when the putrid smell of decomp hit her full force.

"Christ," she whispered. She cleared her throat. "Maura?" she called, knowing her friend was down there somewhere. "Maura? God… Are you… I mean, what… ?" She hated how unsure she sounded. Cases like this always through her for a loop.

"Jane?" Came the answering voice. "Just wait a moment, I—I'll be right up."

Jane backed away quickly from the edge, retreating instead to the safety of her fellow officers. Frost was back, and she nodded to him. He managed a grimace in return. The small circled widened to allow the M.E. space.

"How bad?"

Maura's eyes were glassy; she looked dazed. Swallowing, she replied robotically, almost in staccato, her voice completely devoid of emotion. "18 bodies uncovered so far. Various stages of decomposition. Earliest remains suggest a period of nearly five years. I'll know more once everything is moved to the lab." Her eyes rose slowly, searching out Jane's. "Right now, the remains—" she paused to take a deep breath. "The remains seem to belong to individuals between the ages of six and nine years of age."

Jane's stomach rolled. Behind her she could various sharp intakes of breath and mixed curses. She turned in time to see the shaking uniform from earlier vomit all over his shoes. Rawlins, she recalled with a start. His name was Rawlins and he had eight-year-old twins at home.

Jane sincerely wished she had not gotten out of bed this morning. She nodded her head towards Anthony and Right, who immediately stepped on either side of Rawlins and escorted him towards the vehicles.

Korsak sidled up to her, hands firmly jammed in his pockets tensing over and over into fists; a sure sign he was losing control. He opened his mouth to speak, but then seemed to think better of it, instead choosing to clasp her elbow briefly, before moving past her to reassure Frost and to supervise the removal of the corpses.

Jane glanced at Maura and was startled to find her staring off into the distance. She reached out and clasped Maura's hand. "Are you ok, Maur?"

Maura smiled weakly and squeezed Jane's hand in return. "No. Not at all."

Jane nodded. "Me neither." Maura was perhpas the only person would've admited it to. "Me neither."

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><p>So, yeah. If you think I should continue, let me know! - Sloane<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews and alerts! I realize that this story is pretty dark, and there's going to be some strong language used from now on. Personally, I think it's probably a strong T rating, but if any of you think it should be bumped to an M, please let me know. The last thing I want to do is to offend somebody.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even close.

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><p>He hummed happily to himself as he dropped his bag to the floor and turned the heavy deadbolt on the front door. It had been a long day at work, but now there was nothing to do but unwind. He fixed himself a sandwich and then changed quickly, loathe to miss out on anymore quality time.<p>

He descended the stairs noiselessly, feeling anticipation build. He had hardly been able to focus all day; he had so many new ideas for fun.

Making his way over to the tall cupboard, he made quick work of the lock and examined his tools thoroughly, finally selecting a small paring knife and an old corkscrew. The previously silent figure shackled in the corner began to sob, crying out for its mother and pleading with him. He laughed, delighted, and advanced, feeling all the days worries melt away.

It was always so much more fun when they begged.

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><p>Jane had been avoiding the morgue all day, instead choosing to spend the time with Frost, scouring missing persons reports for individuals in the appropriate age range. It was disheartening work, knowing that any one of the cherubic faces grinning up at her from the photos could, at that very moment, be lying on a cold slab downstairs.<p>

They had been at it for a mere six hours when Cavanaugh burst out of his office, the door bouncing violently against the wall. All eyes in the bullpen were immediately drawn to their boss who was breathing so heavily he could have easily been compared to a wounded rhinoceros.

"Channel 6" he ground out. "_Now_."

Crowe fumbled with the remote, nearly dropping it before finally finding the right button. Immediately Katherine Cho's face filled the screen.

"…_outside BPD headquarters where sources have confirmed that there is, in fact, a new serial killer loose in Boston. Earlier this morning upwards of twenty bodies were recovered in an undisclosed location. Officers are still unsure—" _

Cavanaugh wrestled the remote from Crowe and pummeled the mute button. "Hear that?" his voice was quiet, dangerous. Jane focused on the vein pulsing in his forehead rather than look him in the eye.

"A _source_ has confirmed? Officers are _unsure_? _A fucking serial killer_? Who the _fuck_ would be so _fucking_ stupid to talk to the _fucking_ press?" Spittle flew from his mouth, and those nearest to him visibly cringed. "I swear to god, if I _ever_ find out who the brainless scut who called the press is their badge and their ass are _MINE_!"

He took a few steadying breaths, letting the message sink in. "Korsak," he barked, "you're with me on damage control. Press conference at nine a.m. tomorrow. _Fix this_."

Korsak looked bewildered. "But—"

Cavanaugh's eyes started to pop. "Are you questioning me? I said to fucking fix this, Korsak. You got it?"

Korsak set his jaw and nodded sharply.

Cavanaugh rounded on Jane and some of the fire seemed to leave him. "Rizzoli, you've got point on this. Don't fuck it up, ok? I do _not_ want to have to involve the feds."

And with that he spun on his heel and hurried back to his office and the insessant ringing of his phone, door slamming shut behind him.

"God," breathed Frost, "I don't think I've ever seen him this angry."

Jane raised an eyebrow and Korsak clapped him on the shoulder. "You ain't seen nothing yet Frost, trust me. Jane, it's time."

Jane exhaled sharply. "Fine."

The elevator ride down to the morgue seemed to take an eternity. Jane fidgeted the whole way down, tugging on the loose ends of her hair and chewing impatiently on her lip. Finally the doors opened.

Jane didn't know if she had ever seen the morgue so busy. Everywhere she looked assistants in long lab coats dashed around, yelling figures and overly technical terms Jane didn't understand across the room to their fellows. And there, in the thick of it all, was Maura. She stood alongside the table in the center of the room, looking unusually sombre with her honey coloured hair pulled back tightly and dressed in her black scrubs. And although she stood tall and erect, easily commanding all those around her with practised finesse, Jane was struck by just how small she was without her fancy high heels, how pale her skin was under the florescent lighting, and the delicate architecture of her collarbone, peeking out from the v neck of her scrubs.

Jane did not want to approach the table, but she moved closer anyway, firmly trying to convince herself that it was fine.

Lying on the slab were the remains of a small boy. As far as Jane could tell he seemed to be the most recent of the victims, probably the one who had attracted the attention of the early morning jogger and his dog.

Jane's stomach turned. The little boy's face was covered in cuts and bruises, the whole left side of his face swollen.

Gently Maura reached down and pulled the white sheet over his head, effectively shielding the boy and drawing Jane's eyes to her own. She nodded pointedly to her office and the duo wove their way in and out of the crowd to the sanctuary.

"How are you?" asked Jane, as soon as the door to the office snapped shut.

Maura gave a tired, thin smile. "Coping."

Jane moved closer and rubbed her friend's arm sympathetically. Cases involving children were always the hardest. "What do we know so far?"

"Not much as of yet, I'm afraid. I've already placed a call to Dr. Louis Jepson at the university to ask him to come and consult. He should be here within the hour."

"But why?" asked Jane, confused. "I thought you were doing the autopsies?"

Maura moved to settle on the couch and Jane sat down heavily beside her. "Dr. Jepson is a forensic anthropologist, Jane. I'm a pathologist; I work with the epidermis and internal organs – the 'fleshy bits', if you will. Frankly, some of the bodies are too far along in the stages of decomposition for me to be able to positively identify the victims or even cause of death accurately."

"And this Dr. Jetson can?"

"Jepson, Jane. And yes, he can. Forensic anthropologists can read bone markers and see any anomalies that I may have missed. Actually, William M. Bass, the man I named my tortoise after was a well-known forensic anthropologist. Did you know that in 19—"

"Maura," Jane interrupted. "You can tell me about Bass' namesake later. Right now I just need to know about you findings so far."

"Sorry," Maura sighed, "We've started the autopsies of the bodies closer to the surface first. The two that were on top seem to predate the others by at least a year, and preliminary data seems to point to them having been recently moved from another location. I was just about to start the third autopsy when you entered, so not much is known at this point, other than this is the most recent victim. I've had assistants take dental casts of all the victims; hopefully this will lead to some positive identifications."

Jane patted Maura's knee and stood, ready to tackle the new information. "Thanks Maura. Text me if anything else comes up, ok? Frost and I will get started on IDs. Hey, call me when Jetson gets here? I'd like to meet him. "

"Jane, wait!" cried Maura.

Jane ducked back into the office. "What's wrong?"

"There's more." Maura swallowed nervously. "The bodies, they...they all show extensive signs of torture."

Jane closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. Things just kept getting worse. "Don't worry Maur, we'll get this sick son of a bitch. I promise."

As she left, Jane stole one more glance at the table. The small body took up less than half of the surface. They _would_ get this bastard, she thought ferociously. And when they did, she would personally make sure he paid.


	3. Chapter 3

The figure in the shadows watched him from the corner of reproachful eyes.

He, in turn, gazed at it with equal interest, a lazy smile playing along lips that occasionally drew from a cigarette. After what might have been fifteen minutes of dead quiet, the figure broke the silence with a loud, hacking, obviously painful cough. It turned to the left and splat blood, wiping its mouth delicately with the edge of a tattered blanket.

He grinned, charmed by the sight.

When he stood, the figure jumped away from him so badly that it toppled over, momentarily forgetting its chains. He chortled, crossed the room, and placed the remnants of his supper and one of those mini boxes of fruit loops just out of range. Then sat back and lit another cigarette.

Waited for the show to begin.

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><p>Jane awoke with a start at Frost's insistent prodding. "Jane," he said loudly, "Jane, you gotta wake up! The press conference is in ten minutes, and Cavanaugh will kick your ass if you're not up there beside him and Korsak!"<p>

Jane jolted upwards, causing paperwork to fly off her desk in all directions. "Ten minutes?" Her voice sounded like rocks in a blender. "Goddamnit, Frost! Why'd ya let me sleep?" She quickly began to gather the scattered files, cursing all the while.

Frost shrugged, looking, for the most part, unrepentant. "You needed it."

"No," she growled. "What I _need_ is to be on time. I can't fuck this one up, Frost, you know that. It's too important. "

He watched her shrug into a fresh blazer and handed her a new cup of coffee as she rushed out of the bullpen, trying to tame her hair.

Frost shook his head as he sat to run through more missing persons reports. Jane always seemed to forget that she was important too.

Jane did not hear anything said during the press conference until her name was called. She dutifully stepped forward when Korsak named her as lead investigator, thereby officially turning the flock of vultures that was the Boston press upon her. She vaguely wondered how long it would take for the case to make national headlines. She was thankful that in the end, Cavanaugh and Korsak were able to artfully direct any questions asked of her back to themselves. Over and over she heard them give the same responses:

"Yes, Detective Rizzoli has dealt with serial killers before."

"Detective Rizzoli's history with the aforementioned Charles Hoyt is in no way pertinent to this case, and is thereby off limits for questioning."

"Yes, Detective Rizzoli has been in rehab recently following the incident that took place at the precinct earlier this year. "

"I assure you, her abilities are in no way compromised."

"Yes, we are fully confident in Detective Rizzoli's capacities and are certain that she is the right detective to lead this investigation."

Cavanaugh was just giving his closing remarks when a frantic yell came from the back of the group, spurring the photographers present into a whirlwind of flashes and clicks. "My son!" A lone woman pushed her way forward, "Is it my son? Is it him?" she screamed, "My Andrew? Please tell me, let me see him! _Please!_"

Jane sprang into action, darting from her place by the wall and swiftly making her way to the woman. "Ma'am, you need to calm down, please. " She took the distressed woman's hands in her own, "I'm sorry, but we haven't made any positive ids as of yet. If you could come with me, I'll be sure to answer any questions you may have. "

She folded the trembling woman under her arm and threw a scathing look to the reporters who calling for blood and fresh tears. Without another word, she strode from the room, head held high, strong jaw clenched tightly.

"And that, ladies and gentleman," finished Cavanaugh, "is why she is has the lead."

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><p>Back upstairs, Jane eschewed the interrogation room in favour of the small break room and its mismatched couch and armchairs. She gently sat the now sobbing woman down on the end of the couch and turned again to the door, signalling to Frost. It was only when he arrived that she started to speak.<p>

"I'm Detective Rizzoli and this is Detective Frost. We're going to help you in any way we can, ma'am."

The woman struggled to control her breathing. "I – I'm Erika S-Sims," she began, shakily, "my s-son Andrew… Andrew is m-missing." She began to cry in earnest again.

Jane reached over and presented the distraught mother with a box of tissues. "Mrs. Sims," she said softly, "how long has Andrew been missing?"

"S-six months," she hiccupped. "We – my husband and I – talked to the police before, but without – without any new evidence they didn't have any leads and no one's called the house in so long with information and then – then I saw the news and I j-just knew…"

"Do you remember who the lead investigator on the case was?"

"Detective Carr."

Jane shot a look at Frost, who immediately nodded and left the room, hurrying to find the older detective.

Jane was startled as the small woman in front of her suddenly clasped her hand. "Detective Rizzoli, won't you please just let me check? I answered all the questions when Andrew first went missing. Please, can't you just take me to the ones you've found? I – I could tell you for sure if it was him or not, please…" she broke off at the look on Jane's face. "Please? I just need to see…"

"I'm sorry," said Jane quietly, and she really was. "We can't let you see any of the victims right now."

"But why? I would know if it was my son, _I would_." Mrs. Sims eyes widened slightly when her question was meant with silence. "W-what happened to them? _What did he do to them_?" she howled.

Jane was sharp, "Who is _he_? Do you know who is responsible for—" She was cut off by the door swinging open. "What's going on, Frost?"

"Jane," Frost's voice was low as he gestured for her to follow him, "You gotta see this."

"Jesus Christ…" The bullpen was filled to the brim with civilians. Some came in pairs or small groups, all clutched glossy photos in their hands.

"There she is!" A man in a corduroy jacket cried out, "That's Rizzoli, the one from the news!" And then she was swarmed.

It took nearly an hour just to sequester all the people into separate rooms or to cram them into to waiting areas. It seemed as if anyone with a missing child within the state of Massachusetts had shown up on her doorstep. When the families were all finally settled Jane reconvened with the task force that had been set up the day before.

"Andrews, you've got interrogation room A, Johnson - B, O'Reilly, you've got C. Velasquez, you've got annex room 340, Ryan - room 341, MacDougal - room 343. Davis, you're in the break room. Frost, you take care of Sims but find Carr first, she'll probably respond to a familiar face, I'll be back once I get a uniform set up in the waiting room to keep - "The death march began to play in her pocket, and she winced at the reproving glance flung her way by O'Reilly. "Sorry, I've got to take this; I'll catch up with you all later."

"Rizzoli."

"Jane, you know it's me, you don't have to remind me of your last name." Maura sounded exhausted. Jane sighed.

"I know Maura, force of habit, I guess. What have you got for me?"

"You told me to let you know when Dr. Jepson arrived."

Jane snorted. "He made it did he? Look at that, only a day later than he said, oh, however will we repay him for taking the time to converse with us lowly mortals?"

Jane could practically hear Maura frown on the other end of the line. "I'm going to assume you were joking, Jane. But yes, he has arrived and will be beginning his observations momentarily if you would like to join us."

Jane turned and surveyed the madness of the bullpen. "Sorry, Maur, I've got some things to take care of up here first. Tell him to go ahead. I'll be down as soon as I can. And Maura?"

"Yes, Jane?"

"It _was_ a joke."

Jane listened happily to her best friend's soft laugh. "Yes, thank you for clearing that up. Although, I will have you know that since spending more time with you and your family my success at recognizing sarcasm has increased by the tenfold."

Jane smiled. "Probably not a good thing. I'd say I was a bad influence on you, but I think we both know that Ma's the problem."

Maura laughed again. "I'm going to tell her you said that, you know." Jane could hear muffled voices on Maura's end, "Jane, I must go, I'll see you later."

"Yeah, sure."

"Good luck."

"You too."

Jane was quite sure she would need all the luck she could get. That they both would. She disconnected the call and ran her palm over her face and through her hair.

Talking with Maura always made her feel like there was a little more light in the world, like there was enough to fight the dark. She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders and marched confidently forward, ready to enter the battle once again.

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><p>Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even close. But rest assured, if it were mine the whole TommyMaura will they/won't they thing wouldn't even be up for discussion. At all.

A/N: Ah, so I'm sorry it took so long to update. University life and such. But if there's still interest in the story, I will try to update more frequently, I promise. Review? Please? Thanks for reading! -Sloane


	4. Chapter 4

His hands clenched into tight fists as he watched the dark haired detective spring forward to calm the shrieking woman; he growled low in his throat as she gently led the distraught mother away.

He had been _livid_ when he first saw the clip from that morning's press conference on the six o'clock news. So furious that he had kicked a hole through the downstairs television, destroyed half of the living room and nearly ripped his toy apart before he caught himself. Anger was not productive at the moment; it would only serve to get him caught. But it was so hard not to become enraged as the newscaster went on and on about the _brilliant_, _accomplished, tragic_ Detective Rizzoli. It made his blood boil, made him want nothing more than to wrap his hands around her slender neck and squeeze until she was terrified of him, until her eyes bulged and her lips turned blue, and all that arrogance, all that misplaced confidence she had was gone and delicate bones would crunch and he could rip and slash and – He breathed deeply, trying to steady himself. How dare she unearth his secrets? How dare she vow to catch him? As if some dirty whore of a detective could catch _him_. He snorted at the thought of it.

The taste of blood flooded his mouth and he realized that he had been biting down on his knuckle so hard that he had broken skin. He sucked at it absently as he stood to pace, waiting for the national news to begin, plotting his next move. One thing was for sure, he was going to have to be extra careful during playtime for a while. Parents in Boston were sure to be on high alert after this morning. It would not do to lose this toy without a replacement.

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><p>It was another two hours before Jane finally managed to get the last set of desperate parents on their way. As the rest of the task force sat to compare notes, Jane groaned, trying to find a reason to put off another visit to the morgue. Sighing, she realized there was nothing for it.<p>

"Allright, guys," she said quietly, "try to find some connections between statements. I've got to go meet with Maura's forensic anthropolo-guy. "

She heard them murmur in acknowledgement and turned on her heel, dreading what was to come.

The still silence of the elevator unnerved her after the constant noise and fraying emotions of the bullpen. She leaned against the wall, trying not to fidget, desperately attempting to think of something other than the horrible reality she would find when the steel doors opened. Tried not to dwell on the horrendous wounds that had been inflicted on the boys. Tried to think of anything other than the possibility that they might not get the sick son of a bitch who was doing this. She rubbed her palms anxiously and the jolt of discomfort she felt as she pressed too hard on one of the scars grounded her thoughts. They _would_ bring this monster to justice, she resolved. No matter what. Unbidden the image of the latest victim sprung into her mind, tiny in death. Sometimes it seemed as if just catching the culprit wasn't nearly enough.

The morgue was unusually quiet. All the commotion and noise that had been the norm over the past two days had ceased and instead of the crowd that had been there earlier, the room was entirely empty except for the two forms standing at the examination table.

Dr. Louis Jepson looked nothing like Jane had imagined him. She, for some reason, had been expecting a pudgy, balding, older gentleman, dressed in entirely in tweed – the kind with elbow patches. What she found, however, was a tall man in his early forties with impeccably styled hair, greying at the temples. Exceedingly (almost sickeningly, Jane thought) handsome, he had the build of a swimmer and was clearly very well dressed under his lab coat.

Jane found that she did not like him. She did not like his overly shined shoes. She did not like the ostentatious Rolex glinting at his wrist. She especially did not like the familiarity with which he placed his hand on the small of Maura's back as they leaned over the slab.

She entered the room quickly. Maura turned and brightened slightly, beckoning Jane towards the table.

"Hello," began Jane briskly, hoping to get the introductions out of the way quickly, eager to hear any new information the Doctor might have and to get him on his way, "I'm Detective Rizz– "

Jepson did not look up from the table. "Shhhh!"

Jan's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. "_Excuse me?_"

The anthropologist sighed angrily, pummeling a button on his hand-held recorder and turning to face the detective. "Yes, yes, you're Detective Rizzoli, I know. I, _obviously_, am Doctor Louis Jepson. Now if you would be so kind as to bring your interruption to an end, I would very much like to get back to my observations." He turned back to the table. "Honestly, Maura, how do you put up with this?"

Maura frowned, somewhat worried about the colour Jane's face was turning. "Actually, Detective Rizzoli is the for—"

"That was actually a rhetorical question."

Jane was now shaking in anger, "Listen here, pal, I don't know who you think—" She stopped abruptly at Maura's placating hand on her arm.

"Jane," she whispered, "Let's talk about this in my office, please."

"_Now_," she added as Jane showed no signs of moving.

With one more scathing look at the back of Jepson's perfectly coiffed head, Jane allowed herself to be dragged from the room. As soon as the door to Maura's office clicked shut behind them, Jane began her tirade.

"Who the hell does he think he is? Where does he get off speaking to us like that? Speaking to _you_ like that? I swear to God, Maur, I don't care how respected he is, he's gonna get a piece of my mind. No one talks to you like that. No one."

Maura waited patiently until Jane was done shouting. Calmly, she patted the spot on the couch beside her, waiting for her friend to sit.

"You'll have to forgive Louis, Jane. He requires complete silence to work and—"

"And so that gives him the right to talk down to us like that? He's a jackass, Maura! Why are you defending him?"

"Jane, I'm trying to talk to you. If you would please sit down and let me speak, it would be greatly appreciated."

Jane had the grace to look slightly abashed. "Sorry, Maur."

Maura smiled tiredly. "It's quite all right, Jane. I realize that Louis' actions could be construed by some as discourteous."

"Might?" snorted Jane.

Maura rolled her eyes. Jane recognized the action as one of her own. "I suppose the fact that I have known Louis for many years has led me to expect that sort of behaviour from him."

"Oh, God," moaned Jane, "don't tell me he's another one of your old boyfriends."

"Hardly," scoffed Maura. "Our parents are well acquainted, friends even. Our mothers belong to several of the same societies and charitable organizations. After my engagement with Garrett ended, Louis and I were set up on several occasions. Needless to say, nothing ever came of it. I think you can see why."

Jane was disproportionately relieved by that statement. "Well, then why is do you let him talk to you like that? We both know how you handled Pike when he disrespected you in your own lab. "

"That was far more simple, Jane. For all intents and purposes, I am Dr. Pike's boss. Whether he likes it or not, I was put in charge for a reason. He merely needed to be reminded that whatever his personal feelings towards me may be, it is his duty to, at least, respect me professionally." Maura sighed. "However, I am not Louis' superior. Despite all the things I would like to say to him and all the things I suspect you may want to shout at him, the fact remains that he is invaluable to this case. Already he has pointed out several anomalies that I could have very easily missed."

"_Please_," muttered Jane, "Like _you_ ever miss anything."

Maura rolled her eyes. "While I do appreciate your belief in my abilities, I must remind you that even cyborgs such as myself are not infallible."

Jane smirked, mood lightened by Maura's small joke. "Good. Maybe us humans still stand a chance after all."

Maura chuckled, "I hardly think a small thing like homicidal robots could stop the famous Jane Rizzoli."

"Homicidal robots, Maur? Really? Been perusing Frost's video library, have we?"

The duo happily let themselves enjoy the brief moment of levity before sobering again.

"Anything new I should know?"

"Yes, actually. Through dental records Mimi was able to identify seventeen of the twenty victims. I had her send the results to both you and Frost. "

"Why only seventeen?"

"It seems as though in three instances part of the torture included pulling the boys' teeth one at a time."

Jane sucked at her own teeth thoughtfully, wincing slightly at the idea. "So no dentals, and prints are a no go as well? How're we gonna ID them?"

"Seeing as they are some of the oldest remains, it seemed prudent to charge Justin with the task of starting facial reconstruction to see if Frost will be able to match the results to any pictures."

"McGregor does facial reconstruction?"

Maura smiled, "Yes, he has completed a course and gone to several lectures on the subject, I believe. Obviously, we will have Louis or another of his colleagues check the end result, but overall I am quite confident in Justin's abilities."

Jane clapped her hands together and stood, "Hey, if you think McGregor's got this, then that's enough for me, Maur. I'll talk to you later. Call me when that prick's done, ok?"

Jane slammed the door to Maura's office purposely and was pleased to see Jepson's shoulders stiffen at the noise. Stomping as loud as she could and knocking an empty tray to the floor as she passed, Jane vindictively called out as she left the morgue. "See ya around, Jetson!"

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: I own only the characters you don't recognize, and I'm even willing to share them.<p>

A/N: So, not very professional of our dear detective perhaps, but I do so much love a jealous Jane. Sorry for the breaks between updates, killer exams, a minor concussion and laziness all got together and conspired against me. Please, please review! :) - Sloane


	5. Chapter 5

"… and in other news, no new developments have been released on the multiple bodies recently found, although Boston PD assures us that they are working diligently and..."

He shut the television off and breathed a sigh of relief. Since the press conference all he could think about was whether or not he'd been careful enough. Of course, the thought that _they _had the mental acuity to catch _him_ was laughable. Truly hilarious. Nevertheless, it had been difficult to work earlier that day when all he could picture was that bitch detective kicking down his front door. He toyed briefly with the idea of moving elsewhere. But no, not now, it would be too difficult to move now. Weak as it was, as soon as it felt daylight it would be sure to fight and yell and draw all sorts of unsavoury attention. He stretched and let the issue go; now wasn't time to worry. He had had a hell of a day at work; now it was time to unwind.

* * *

><p>The house was pretty; quaint, with a blue door, comfortably nestled in the corner of a neighbourhood any kid would be lucky to grow up in. As the car pulled up to the curb, Jane felt dread tighten in her gut.<p>

There was a tree swing in the front yard. There were two small bicycles resting against the garage. Inside there was a family. A family that still had hope.

And it was her job to rob them of that hope, to confirm their worst fears and break their hearts into tiny pieces.

They had been at this for hours, although it felt much longer - like she had maybe lived several lifetimes in between notifications. It had been around eight o'clock that morning when the last of MacGregor's reconstructions had been validated. Immediately Jane had divided the names amongst the task force and sent them on their way, saying that the families had waited long enough.

Long enough. With that thought she steeled herself and turned to Frost who was gazing resolutely at the blue door, hands clenching on the steering wheel.

"Let's go."

His gaze did not waver.

"C'mon, Frost, it's our last one. And they've waited long enough."

Frost bowed his head. His whole body seemed to shrink into itself. "Jane?" he asked.

"Yeah, Frost?"

"Do you—" His breath caught, "Do you believe in God?"

Jane had not been expecting this from him. Not from her partner, the upstart so eager to prove himself one of the boys, to prove that he was tough enough. She looked into his dark eyes and contemplated her answer carefully.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I do. "

"But… how? I mean, how can you believe after this? After all the things you've been through and seen? How do you know?" He looked so lost that it almost frightened Jane.

"I – I'm not sure what to tell you, Frost. For me, I guess, it's almost a necessity, you know? Like, we put ourselves in danger, and we see things that no one should ever have to see and then the next day we come back and do it all over again. I come back because I want to make sure that there's good working against all the evil. I believe because I need to. I need to believe that there is an ultimate good existing somewhere, something to counteract all the evil I _know_ exists. I need to believe that if I'm staring down the barrel of a gun, I've got someone standing beside me. I need to believe that all the one's we can't save – especially those kids back at the morgue– I need to believe that there's someone to take care of them, to comfort them and keep them safe and welcome them home. I guess I believe because I just can't stand to think about the alternative, Barry. "

Frost was quiet. Jane's throat was tight.

"Ok," he said finally.

Jane met his eyes again and felt reassured by the calmness she found there. "Ok?"

Frost nodded and inhaled sharply. "Let's do this. And then let's make the scum who did this pay."

Jane smiled. "Ok."

* * *

><p>It was dark when they finally made it back to the precinct. Once inside, Jane made sure to track down all the members of the task force and send them home. A day like that took a toll on everyone. After telling Frost to leave she headed towards the elevator, stopping only to grab a leftover jelly filled donut, and silently praying that Det. Carr was working late. She stepped inside and rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up. When she looked back up she was displeased but unsurprised to find Frost standing beside her.<p>

"I thought I told you to go home?"

Frost snorted. "What so you can have all the glory? No thanks."

Jane laughed. "Seriously, Frost, you need sleep, it's been a hell of a day."

"Seriously Jane," he said in a tone that brooked no argument, "you're my partner. My _partner_. I go home when you do. "

Jane said nothing but reached forward and hit the button for floor three. She chose to ignore the shit-eating grin plastered on Frost's face.

Det. Carr was just packing up when they arrived. As soon he saw them he gave a great "Humph", sat heavily in his chair, and began to pull files from different drawers. "'bout time you got down here Rizzoli, I was about to go out and take over that fancy task force myself if you didn't show up soon. "

"Ah, can it," laughed Jane, "we both know you would make it up the stairs to homicide anyway. Whaddya got for us?"

George scowled good-naturedly, "I do her a favour and look what I get! See how she treats her old friends?" He turned to Frost, "I tell ya, get out while you still can, kid." He cleared his throat purposely. "Now, I know you've got a bunch of kids up there with ya on that force looking for links, but I thought give it a look over for old times sake anyway. And I'll bet that what I've found beats the pants off any one of the rooks. "

Jane rolled her eyes. "Jeez, George, it's not a competition. And it's not like they're fresh from the academy. Davis and Johnson have been here longer than me."

He waved a hand carelessly, "Not the point. The point is, I've found a link. Here." He thrust a note pad across the desk. "See?" he asked excitedly, "All twenty of those kids were last seen at a park or a schoolyard."

"The same ones?" Jane asked quickly.

"Well, no."

Jane folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Just wait, don't rush me." He shuffled more papers. "There. See? All the locations have playgrounds built by G&O Park Equipment Ltd."

Jane grinned almost dizzy with relief, "Finally, a lead we can actually work with!" She pulled the jelly filled donut from behind her back.

"Cherry?" Carr asked hopefully.

"Of course," she laughed. "How could I forget?"

"You be sure to tell your captain who found this lead, eh Rizzoli?" he said, munching happily, "Let 'em know up there in homicide that it's not all about the rooks and new computers. Tell 'em that we old dogs still got a few tricks in us yet."

"Will do, George. Thanks."

"Anytime, Rizzoli. Anytime."

* * *

><p>Back upstairs Jane was practically vibrating. "Alright, Frost, can you maybe find out if the parks the kids disappeared from were under construction or were having maintenance done? And if they were we'll look to see if the sites have any workers in common." She ran her hands through her hair. "It's not much, but it's a start at least. I'll go order us som—"<p>

"You'll be ordering nothing else tonight, Rizzoli," Interrupted Cavanaugh brusquely. "You and Frost are going home."

Jane spun to face him, incredulous. "We've got a solid lead! This creep could have one of those missing kids with him right now!"

"You're no good to anyone half-asleep."

"I'm not tired." Jane said immediately.

"Me neither," Frost interjected quickly. "Sir."

"Oh, really?" raising his eyebrows, he turned to Jane. "When was the last time you slept, Rizzoli?"

"I – uh,"

"Yeah, exactly. I don't want to see either of you in here 'til at least eight tomorrow morning. You can pick it up then. That's an order," he added when neither of them made a move to leave. He began to retreat to his office. "Oh, and Rizzoli? Take the Doc with ya, she's been here just as long as you have, maybe longer."

Frustrated, Jane grabbed her keys and stomped to the elevator, Frost beside her. She let him off at ground floor and then made her was to the morgue.

"Maura?" she called, entering the empty lab. "Cavanaugh's kicking me out, wanna grab somethi—" Jane stopped short at the sight of the ME at her desk, head propped up on her hand, mouth slightly open and snoring softly. It was times like this that she couldn't help but marvel at how incredibly adorable her friend was.

"Hey, Maur, " she said softly, gently shaking her friend awake. "C'mon, let's get you home."  
>"Wha…? No, Jane, I'm fiii—" her protests were cut off by a gigantic yawn.<p>

"Yeah," chuckled Jane, "You're fine. C'mon sleepyhead, are you gonna get up, or am I going to have to carry you out?"

"Humph." Said Maura. "I'm a grown woman, I can walk on my own, Jane. What time is it?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Maur. It's like nine thirty or something. Let's go, I'm starving."

Maura's eyes lit up. "Can we get olives on the pizza?"

"Who said we were getting pizza?"

Maura raised an eyebrow.

"Only if we get extra pepperoni."

"Fine. But just so you know, pepperoni is extremely unhealthy for you."

"I think I'll risk it."

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: notmine. not mine. not. mine.<p>

A/N: Sorry it's been so long. Forgive me? Thanks for reading! -Sloane


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